


Idol Worship

by annabeth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Smut, Underage Sex, Viktor with a K, Vikturio, awkward blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: "You're a fucking coward," Yuri says.





	Idol Worship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icicle33 (Icicle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icicle/gifts).



> Sooo this happened: an attempt to FINALLY write Vikturio with a happy ending for [Icicle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icicle).
> 
> Initial readthrough and encouragement (telling me the ending worked, for instance!) was provided by [Blownwish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blownwish), who puts up with me pestering her all day long. ;)

"You're a fucking coward," Yuri says, shoving back his flaxen blond hair. He's growing it out solely because Viktor said in some magazine interview or another that he thought long hair on boys was beautiful, which was why he'd kept his so long.

"You're fourteen," Viktor says in that infuriatingly calm _adult voice_ that Yuri hears from everyone. He's so fucking sick of it, and he's even more sick of it coming out of Viktor's mouth. Viktor has never before treated him like a child. "I'm twenty-seven, Yuri, it's too old."

"Like I said. A fucking coward. You really care what all of those cows think? They're a bunch of sheep, Vitya."

"Are they cows or sheep?" Viktor asks, eyebrow cocked. His voice is mild, patronizing. Yuri wants to punch him. He probably would, if he didn't want to mess up the pretty face he's got such a crush on.

"That's not the fucking point!" Yuri surges up into Viktor's space, jamming him up against a wall and using his knife shoes to make him tall enough to reach Viktor's mouth. He's never kissed anyone before, but he's hungry for it, so he opens his mouth and slaps it on top of Viktor's. Almost immediately he tastes blood where his teeth cut into his lip. "Fuck!"

"You don't even know what you're doing," Viktor begins, but Yuri abandons kissing him; it's a pointless waste of time, anyway. Who cares about kissing when you could get your dick stroked?

So he shoves his hand down the front of Viktor's Russia tracksuit and fumbles around until he gets it inside of Viktor's underwear. Viktor isn't helping him at all—but when Yuri glances up, Viktor's got his head back and he's wearing a blank, almost too blank, poker face. Viktor thinks it's wrong, sure, but he's not actually against it. He only thinks it's wrong because he thinks he _should_. Yuri has to stifle the urge to crow in his face.

He finds Viktor's cock without much difficulty after that, and for the first time ever, he brushes his fingers over someone else's sex. He's never touched any cock but his own before, and he's not experimented with any girls, either. Why bother with girls, anyway? They need too much emotional shit, more than Yuri's willing to give.

But what does Viktor care about pretty words or flowers or some other stupid romantic shit? Nah, Viktor's not gonna fucking care. Viktor's probably going to be happy with some kind of—

Yuri lets go of Viktor long enough to unlace his knife shoes, half-afraid Viktor's going to push past him and out of the locker room, but Viktor doesn't. He stands there, that blank expression replaced by… stunned, if Yuri had to guess.

Now on his knees, Yuri tugs Viktor's tracksuit pants down. His underwear are soft, but obviously fairly new—of course, since Viktor has plenty of money from sponsorships and endorsements. His cock is nestled into the cotton, still mostly soft, but under Yuri's intense gaze he can actually _see_ it begin to harden. His scrutiny makes Viktor shift on his feet, and then Yuri smacks him on the hip with one hand. This gets a verbal reaction from Viktor—finally.

"You don't need to be so rough, Yura," Viktor says. "This isn't like skating, where the more enthusiasm and force you put it into it, the better it is. Well, not always."

Fine. So Viktor doesn't like it forced. Good to know. Yuri hooks his thumbs into Viktor's Calvin Klein's and strips them down his legs. He's never done this before, either, but he knows what to do—what teenage boy doesn't watch porn?

He opens his mouth and puts the head of Viktor's cock into it. He almost immediately spits it back out. Viktor's taste… it's not what he was expecting, to be honest with himself. He tastes faintly acidic and bitter, and he smells like sweat. Small wonder, since they just finished practice. He tries to bring more of it into his mouth, but he can't. So he settles for grasping the centimeters of the shaft that won't fit and yanking up and down as he licks at the head.

And, ew, the precome tastes salty and bitter, too. But Yuri perseveres. He didn't spend the last two years imagining Viktor in every even remotely sexual fantasy he's had since he was twelve to give up this easily.

Especially since Viktor's hand is in his hair, tightening around the silky strands and—Yuri's sure he doesn't mean to, but Viktor's pushing his head forward, thrusting against his throat, and Yuri gags a little trying to accommodate him.

But it seems to be working. He knows he has no technique, no finesse, but Viktor's past caring about that—he keeps fucking into Yuri's mouth and Yuri has to swallow hard not to gag on it again. When he does, Viktor's cock, on an inward thrust, slips into his throat and just like that Yuri's got tears in his eyes as he tries to navigate around the reality of deepthroating when he has no idea how to do it.

Yuri puts both hands on Viktor's hips and slams him backwards. As soon as he can breathe, though, Viktor's coming, and Yuri's breath is lost again as he tries desperately to keep up with the jets of come filling his mouth.

He pulls off and turns his head away; come splatters against the side of his face and into his hair. He spits what he couldn't swallow onto the floor.

"Is that what you wanted?" Viktor asks, rubbing the sticky jizz into his skin. "Or too much for you, like I said?"

Yuri stabs him with his best glare.

"Fuck you, Vitya, you did that on purpose." He spits more of the bitter fluid onto the ground. "I'll get better, just you wait."

"On someone else, maybe," Viktor says, taking his hand away. "I told you it shouldn't happen."

Yuri gets to his feet and goes up on his tiptoes, so that he can try to get in Viktor's face.

"You're not gonna get rid of me that easily," he swears, before grabbing his skates and stomping off. It's as he's walking away, suddenly aware of the come still in his hair, that he can hear Viktor murmur—obviously deliberately loud enough for Yuri to hear—

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Yuri smiles and ducks his head down. He knew he'd wear Viktor down. So it was a crappy blowjob from both sides. Yuri will get used to the taste, and maybe next time, Viktor will do him in return. He sneaks off into the showers, tears off his clothes, and jacks off furiously beneath the hot water even as he tries, with the other hand, to get the jizz out of his hair, but that shit is like fucking _glue_.

When long, slender fingers pull his hand away and begin to wash his hair at the same time as long, slender fingers from the other hand cover his where they're wrapped around his dick, Yuri smiles again.

Viktor doesn't say a word, but he licks come from his long, slender fingers when Yuri finishes all over them both in the shower.

When Yuri chances to look at him again, Viktor is smiling too.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://helm-puppet-trash.tumblr.com)!


End file.
